


I Might Be A Little Bit Cold

by neversolace



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:42:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21676219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neversolace/pseuds/neversolace
Summary: Mycroft turns up on Greg's doorstep, freezing cold. Greg takes it upon himself to warm him up.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 2
Kudos: 145





	I Might Be A Little Bit Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all!
> 
> This is mysterious second Mystrade fic, hope you all enjoy it. If you enjoy my writing, I am neversolace on Tumblr, where I will be posting fic updates and have an open submission and ask box for prompts, comments and questions. All welcome, hate will be laughed at.
> 
> In the meantime, hope you enjoy this piece of mine.

24th December 2019 22:00

Greg walked through the threshold to his flat and shook the snow from his coat and hair. The snow had appeared overnight and had gotten progressively worse throughout the day. He had watched the snowstorm through his office window and had dreaded the thought of the evening commute. Trains had been cancelled, taxis were nowhere to be seen, buses were so packed that they gave up on letting more passengers on. Even though Greg had left work on time for the first time in 5 years, he still managed to get home at the same time. He was in a foul mood and hanging his coat up and getting a warm cup of tea had done nothing to soothe his mood. Even the thought of Christmas was filling him with dread. Just another day of the year where he would be spending it alone but with the added knowledge that everyone around him would be gleefully exchanging gifts and eating good food. 

He had just gotten the telly on when a sharp buzz rang through his flat. He contemplated not answering and just sitting down on the couch, but something made him walk towards the intercom by the front door and press the answer buzzer.

“Yeah?” his mood shone through in his answer.

“I’m t-terribly s-sorry, Detective Inspector but I…” The voice trembled down the line.

The voice was familiar immediately, and Greg froze. What was Mycroft doing in this part of London? And more importantly, what was he doing outside of Greg’s flat? The questions spun through Greg’s head until he was interrupted by a sharp cough down the line.

“Hello? Are you still there? Detective Inspector?”

“Yes! Sorry! Let me buzz you in hold on.” Greg stumbled over his words as he fumbled with the button to open the main door. “Third floor, to the left.”

The buzzer clicked off and Greg took a moment to look around the flat in disbelief. The situation seemed too surreal to be true. He jumped slightly when there was a knock at his door. He huffed lightly when he realised that his flat number must be in his file. He took a deep breath and opened the door. Mycroft stood there in his long black coat which reminded Greg of Sherlock’s Belstaff coat but seemed much more expensive. His umbrella was tightly gripped in his hand which was white as the snow outside. Greg brought his eyes up to Mycroft’s face and studied his face. His face was pale white as if he had just seen a ghost, apart from his nose, which had turned a scarlet red. The faint chatter of Mycroft’s teeth filled the air. Greg decided to break the ice.

“Is everything ok? Come on in, sorry about the mess.”

“Sorry about the intrusion, Detective Inspector.’ The stutter had left his voice, but it was clear that Mycroft was still feeling the effects of the cold. “I will be out of your hair soon; I just need to sort out some transportation.”

“Stay as long as you need, honestly, it’s no trouble.” Greg wondered if the reply had come too quickly, too urgent. “Fancy a cuppa?”

“Yes please, Detect-“

“Greg, please, you’ve known me for too long to keep up the formality with me.” Greg interrupted. 

Mycroft chuckled lightly.

“Yes please, Gregory.”

“Can’t win ‘em all” It was Greg’s turn to laugh. “I’ll get you to call me Greg one day.”

“I await your efforts, Gregory.” Mycroft was starting to show signs of warming up.

Greg finished making Mycroft’s tea and walked over to him handing him the mug, brushing his fingers against Mycroft’s hands in the process. The touch was fleeting, but Greg could still feel how cold Mycroft’s hand were.

“No leather gloves today?” he asked, gesturing to the other man’s hands.

“No, unfortunately. Today seems to have been full of oversights and poor judgements. I find that myself and staff tend to get lazy around the holidays.” Mycroft shook his head slightly as he took a sip of tea and softly sighed. 

“What else happened?”

Mycroft started to answer when his phone rang in his pocket.

“Ah, if you’ll excuse me, Det- Gregory.”

Greg smiled softly. “Sure, I’ll just get changed out of my work clothes if you don’t mind?”

“Of course not, please go right ahead.” Mycroft was already raising the phone to his ear.

Greg walked through the flat to his bedroom and closed the door behind him. The reality started to set in as he got his pyjamas ready. Mycroft Holmes was in his flat. He still didn’t know why or how, and he thought of the possibilities. Some super-secret spy drama? Mycroft always claimed that he was a civil servant, but Greg’s belief of that statement had always been that it was an outright lie. Mycroft’s job was interesting, but not Greg’s business. Why he was standing in Greg’s flat, however, was his business. He finished getting changed and put his work clothes in the laundry hamper before walking back out towards the living room where Mycroft was still on the phone. 

He was staring out the window, facing away from Greg, but his exasperation was evident by the slacking of his shoulders. Greg gave a small cough and immediately, Mycroft stood up straight.

“Thank you, Anthea, that will be all for tonight.” He hung up the phone and turned back to Greg. “Apologies, Gregory.”

“No need for apologies, Mycroft. What brings you here tonight anyway? Must be a dire situation for you to come to mine.”

“The snow has caused a lot more damage to my services than I anticipated. By the time I was cleared to leave my office for the day, the snow had affected the ability for my cars to take me home. Efforts to find some air transportation proved fruitless.”

“What about public transportation?” Greg joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“God forbid. The thought crossed my mind, but it seems that the majority of public transportation had been cancelled. I was getting stressed and decided to just start walking. It wasn’t too far of a walk in normal weather but this weather seemed to make the journey last a lot longer than I had anticipated. Before I knew it, I had been walking for an hour and a half. I looked around and found myself in the vicinity of your flat and decided that no harm could come from requesting a place to stop for a minute.”

“Yeah, no, you’re always welcome here, Mycroft.” To avoid the awkward implication of that sentence he had just blurted, Greg continued. “What was Anthea just saying?”

“Ah. I may have to request something big of you Gregory. It seems that Anthea has been unable to find a way to get transport for me, and there are no hotels in the vicinity with a room.”

“Thought your reach in the government would be able to get you pretty much anything you wanted.” Greg teased.

Mycroft gave a quick huff of laughter.

“Whilst I am blessed with a well-paying job, my reach only extends so far. I cannot vacate an individual from a hotel simply because I am cold, I’m afraid. And if a car is physically unable to get to me then that’s another thing I am unable to change.” Mycroft sighed and took a sip of tea.

Greg found himself studying Mycroft’s face for a reaction, no wanting to have disappointed him with his terrible cup of tea. Mycroft’s face gave nothing away, however. 

“What was it that you needed from me then, Mycroft?” He asked, feeling that he already knew the answer.

“Would you allow me to spend the night here tonight? I will be out by the time a car can get here in the morning I will try not to distract you too much.”

Greg’s suspicions were confirmed, and his heart jumped into his mouth. Mycroft was going to spend the night at his flat. Why did that make him so nervous so suddenly? He was an adult man. An adult man with an adult crush on another adult man. Surely, he shouldn’t be this nervous about a crush. But nevertheless, he found himself stuttering through a response.

“Yes! Please! No, of course be my guest you can come anytime! I mean you can come round anytime! Stay anytime! No trouble at all!” He stopped himself before he further embarrassed himself an took a breath. “Let me get you some clothes ready. You can stay in my bed.”

Mycroft’s eyebrows shot up at that last statement and Greg saw his cheeks turn red before he turned away slightly, probably to hide his flushed cheeks, thought Greg.

“Oh, I’ll stay in here on the sofa!”

He had made a right tit of himself and quickly shuffled back to his bedroom to collect himself and a spare set of pyjamas. He re-entered the living room and handed the set to Mycroft. Once again, his hands brushed Mycroft’s and they still felt just as cold as they did the first time they brushed.

“Are you still cold? Your hands feel freeing.”

“Oh, nothing to be worried about, Gregory, I’m sure I will be fine.”

There was something about the response that didn’t convince Greg. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, lightly pressing for a more honest answer.

“Um… well… I might be a little bit cold, still…”

“Why didn’t you say?”

“I don’t want to be a bother, Gregory…” Mycroft trailed off.

He thought for a second before deciding on a bold choice. He held his hands out to Mycroft.

“Gimme your hands.”

Mycroft hesitated, eyes darting from Greg’s hands back up to his face. He debated this for a moment, and Greg thought he had massively overstepped his boundary. But then, Mycroft set the pyjamas on the coffee table and offered his hands to Greg. Greg took Mycroft’s right hand first and started to slowly rub them together between his own. Once he was satisfied that it was starting to warm up, he switched to Mycroft’s left hand. He noticed that Mycroft’s hands were much softer than he had expected and wondered what they would feel like on other places. He quickly shook the thought from his head. There was no need for his mind to go to those places right now. Once he had finished, he allowed himself to let his hand linger for a split second before releasing Mycroft’s hand.

“Better?”

“Much better. Thank you, Gregory.”

Greg smiled at that. He realised that his tea must be getting cold and sat down before picking it up and taking a sip. Mycroft hadn’t moved from his space and Greg gestured to the couch.

“You wanna sit? I was just gonna watch tv tonight, but you must be shattered, right?”

Mycroft hesitated, before setting the mug on the coffee table and picking up the pyjamas.

“I think I might get changed quickly. If you’ll excuse me, Gregory.”

“Sure, use my bedroom, right down the hall.”

Mycroft nodded and headed towards the bedroom. Greg thought about Mycroft slowly removing the clothing he had on. Like a knight removing his armour, he must be so meticulous. He couldn’t imagine Mycroft haphazardly throwing his clothes across the room. He thought about how he would fold each piece of clothing. It didn’t take long until the image of Mycroft in his head was in his underwear. Greg felt his heart start beating through his chest. He pushed the thought out of his mind and focussed on his cup of tea, which was half empty by the time Mycroft returned. He looked like a completely different person in Greg’s striped pyjama bottoms and plain white long sleeve shirt. The trousers were slightly too short for Mycroft, and Greg found himself staring at the exposed leg next to him. His breath hitched in his throat and hoped Mycroft didn’t hear that. The silence that filled the room was loud in Greg’s ears. He needed to say something. He finished his tea and set the mug down before turning to Mycroft.

“So, this is like a sleepover. I think we should get to know each other better.”

The laugh that came out of Mycroft’s mouth surprised Greg, but he didn’t reject the idea. So, Greg went and asked the first question.

“First time getting drunk?”

Mycroft looked at Greg and realised that the conversation wouldn’t get picked up until this one was over with. He thought about the answer for a second. He leaned back and turned his body slightly, getting more comfortable on the old couch.

“I was 17, at a family event where my parents were mingling with friends and potential business partners. I was allowed to attend for the first time and a distant uncle was unhappy about his attendance. To make some entertainment for himself he convinced me to have a few bourbons and whiskeys. Naturally, I was inebriated fairly quickly, and ended up falling everywhere. My parents weren’t furious, but let’s just say that I wasn’t allowed to anymore family events until I could hold my alcohol better.”

Greg was surprised. He expected a story, but not that much of a story. He nodded his head in approval and saw Mycroft waiting expectantly for his own story.

“Mine’s not nearly as interesting as that. I was 15 at a house party that moved into a field. A bottle of vodka later and there I am vomiting in a bush. Not so glamourous.”

Mycroft smiled at the story and immediately jumped into his question.

“First job?”

“A café washing dishes for less than minimum wage. I got fired in the end, something about not needing my scruffy self washing their pristine cups and plates. Oh well their loss.” Greg laughed at the memory and waited for Mycroft’s answer.

“A simple entry level job in government. Terribly boring I’m afraid and not much to tell.”

“Not much to tell or not much you’re allowed to tell?” Greg asked sarcastically.

There was that laugh again. Greg found his spirits lifting at being able to make Mycroft laugh out loud.

“Both of those sound right, Gregory. I’m enjoying this, please, continue.”

The conversation continued with each taking turns asking questions. Some unanswered, some met with a glare from Mycroft which made Greg giggle uncontrollably. The questions stayed tame for the most part, but after a few detailed conversations and almost an hour later, Greg was starting to feel brave.

“First crush?”

Mycroft looked at him and quickly averted his gaze. He had no tea left to delay the question.

“Next question please, Gregory.”

“Oh, come on, I’ll tell you mine.” He waggled his eyebrows  
.  
Mycroft sighed. “Yours first, please.”

“My first crush was when I was in my second to last year at school. Someone in the year above me. Nothing happened, but it didn’t stop me from coming in early to try and get a glimpse.”

“Name?”

“Didn’t know it. We moved in completely different social circles and none of my mates had a clue about them.”

“Ah. What did she look like then?”

Greg took a moment before answering. He looked at Mycroft and met his eye. Now or never.

“Um, he, actually.”

“Ah apologies, Gregory. I just assumed…. Sorry.”

“I didn’t advertise it, it’s ok Mycroft.”

Greg thought that he saw Mycroft light up at the revelation but wasn’t sure if it was just his mind playing tricks on him. He let the mood settle before turning back to Mycroft.

“But, yeah, he was so tall. Rugby player, massive arms and legs. Don’t know what made me like him specifically, there was at least 30 more like him at my school.”

“Is that your type then?” Greg thought he detected some jealousy in this response.

“Absolutely not. Equal opportunity lover, I am.” He replied, trying to catch Mycroft’s eye. “What about you, then? First crush?”

Mycroft was silent for a while. Greg didn’t understand why. He didn’t seem to be like Sherlock when it came to the relationship front. Mycroft seemed much more sociable, or, at least, much more adept at mimicking being sociable. And he was human, his mind must wander to those places. Who did his mind turn to when those thoughts arrived? Greg didn’t push for an answer. If Mycroft didn’t want to answer he could simply say so. After what seemed like an eternity, Mycroft answered.

“I’ve only had one crush. One that is still ongoing. I don’t know if its reciprocated. I would like it to be but know that most likely it isn’t.”

That last sentence tugged at Greg’s heartstrings and he reached out to touch Mycroft’s shoulder. Mycroft gave a little jump at the unexpected contact but didn’t shake him off. 

“Who is this mysterious individual that’s won your heart, I’ll arrest them for you f’you want?” Joked Greg.

Mycroft gave a soft chuckle that had a twinge of sadness.

“Unnecessary Gregory.”

Greg wondered who it could be. He hardly saw Mycroft with anyone else apart from Anthea, Sherlock, or John. Maybe a work colleague? Did he even have work colleagues? He seemed to be a solitary worker, and content with that. Was he lonely? His train of thought was interrupted by Mycroft speaking.

“It’s you, Gregory.”

Greg must have misheard him or missed a vital part of the conversation. He blinked.

“What’s me?”

“My crush. It’s you. I had originally planned to keep it under wraps for the foreseeable future. But the situation tonight has provided a valuable opportunity to confess. You don’t need to worry I don’t expect you to be interested in someone like me. When morning comes, I’ll be out of your flat and you will not need to interact with me in any unwanted capacity.”

Mycroft was babbling and Greg was still trying to process. Mycroft Holmes. The British Government. Had a crush on him, Greg Lestrade. Lowly Detective Inspector. Lives in a bad neighbourhood. Drinks cheap coffee and smokes cheap cigarettes. He zoned back in to find Mycroft still babbling and immediately leant in to crowd against Mycroft and press his forehead against Mycroft’s.

“Mycroft?”

“Yes?”

“Stop talking for one second please.”

“Of course.”

They stayed like that for several seconds, simply taking in each other’s scents and warmth. Greg gave out a shaky breath and decided it was now or never. He moved his lips towards Mycroft’s. They connected softly. That didn’t stop a jolt of electricity from passing through Greg’s entire body. Mycroft’s lips were softer than he imagined. Especially since he just came out of the freezing weather outside. He could taste the tea lingering on his mouth and savoured every flavour he could find. Mycroft had seemingly frozen during this time, but he snapped out of his shock and moved his hands to grab Greg by the back of the head and pull him even closer towards him.

Greg eagerly obliged and moved his whole body closer to Mycroft. He swiped his tongue out across Mycroft’s bottom lip. He felt Mycroft open his mouth slightly and Greg slowly brought his tongue to meet Mycroft’s. They explored each other’s mouth tentatively, as if one wrong move would end the whole thing and they go about pretending they didn’t exist. Neither Greg nor Mycroft wanted that to happen so each made sure to be gentle and not push the other too far. 

After 15 minutes of exploring and tasting. Greg brought his hand right hand down across Mycroft’s body to rest on Mycroft’s hip. As he got closer to the hip, his arm was met with something blunt. He realised with a start what it was. He felt Mycroft immediately stiffen and pull away.

“I’m so sorry, Detective Inspector.” 

Greg looked down to see the bulge coming through Mycroft’s pyjama bottoms. Mycroft had started babbling again, so he simply raised a finger to his lips to stop him in his tracks. Mycroft looked at him with exasperation etched on his face, until Greg simply leaned back on the sofa. Mycroft looked down and noticed that Greg was in an identical state of arousal. Mycroft took in a deep breath and Greg leaned towards his ear.

“I think the bedroom will be much more comfortable for us, don’t you think?” He whispered seductively.

Mycroft simply gulped and nodded quickly. Greg stood up and took Mycroft by the hand and led him back towards the bedroom. When he walked in, his assumptions from earlier were confirmed. A pile of Mycroft’s clothes was laid pristinely on the chair in the corner. Greg could get used to the sight of that every day. He closed the door behind them and turned to Mycroft.

He suddenly felt much more nervous now that they both knew what they were here for. Mycroft was still hard, and the tenting in his trousers made Greg salivate. He pushed the nervousness aside and walked towards Mycroft. They kissed softly. Greg snaked one hand around the back of Mycroft’s head. The other reached down to stroke Mycroft through his trousers. He felt the gasp through the kiss. He smiled at the reaction and kept up a slow and steady stroke. The gasps coming from Mycroft were fuelling his own erection. 

Mycroft had settled both of his hands on Greg’s hips and was content with simply getting rubbed through his trousers. Greg was happy to oblige and continued. After a short while Mycroft reached for the hand that Greg was stroking him with. Greg stilled and pulled away from the kiss. He watched as Mycroft hooked his long slender fingers into the waistband of his trousers. His cock was still trapped in a pair of briefs. Greg followed suit and took of his own bottoms, leaving both of them stood in their underwear and shirts. Greg reached out and resumed stroking Mycroft. He could feel the warmth from his groin and was impressed. Mycroft was much bigger and thicker than he had imagined. 

“Let me pleasure you, darling.”

Mycroft nodded, and allowed Greg to push him backwards until his legs hit the bed and he sat down on the edge. Greg settled between his legs and started peppering kisses along Mycroft’s thighs. The inner leg seemed to be the most sensitive based on Mycroft’s reactions and noises, so Greg paid extra attention to those areas. He worked his way up until he met the straining underwear where he saw Mycroft’s thickness lifting the hem of the underwear. He swiped his tongue underneath and felt the shudder ripple through Mycroft. 

Greg brought the waistband over Mycroft’s Cock and watched it bounce up invitingly. He brought the underwear down and off his legs and settled back close. He looked up at Mycroft with devilish eyes and his lips tantalisingly close to the swollen cock.

“May I please suck your cock, Mr. Holmes?”

Greg barely got the question out before Mycroft had grabbed the back of his head and nudged him forward onto his cock. The warmth entered his mouth instantly, making him salivate and coat the head with it. Greg let out a slow moan and got to work. He slid his tongue around the head and moved down Mycroft’s cock. He was a little out of touch, seeing as he couldn’t remember the last time he had sucked a bloke off before, let alone someone as big as Mycroft. But nevertheless, he easily slid into the rhythm of things. He worked his way down until the head of Mycroft’s cock pushed against the back of his throat. He gagged a little bit before wondering whether he was still able to do his secret trick. He met Mycroft’s eyes and went even further, until Mycroft was sliding down his throat. Mycroft shuddered violently above him, but Greg made sure his hips stayed still so that he wouldn’t choke. He reached the base of Mycroft’s cock and stayed there. He fondled Mycroft’s balls until he had to resurface for air. 

Mycroft was letting out a string of curses, even after Greg had released him. His breathing was ragged, and he was turning red. He looked positively filthy, and right now, he was all Greg’s.

“Gregory… Please do that again.”

“My pleasure.”

And Greg immediately obliged. He took Mycroft down to the base in one swift movement. He slid up and went straight back down. He set a strong and fast pace, fucking his own throat on Mycroft’s cock. Mycroft was floundering above him and letting out even more filthy curses, which were made even filthier since they were coming out of his mouth. 

After ten minutes of deepthroating, Greg felt Mycroft’s balls tighten and knew what that meant.

“Where do you want to cum, darling?”

“Face” Mycroft struggled.

Greg shuffled back on his knees as Mycroft stood up and stroked himself furiously. He stuck his tongue out dutifully and waited for his prize. Mycroft’s groans were growing desperate and as he yelled, the first rope of cum flew out of his cock over Greg’s face. It stretched from his forehead, down to his chin. The second rope went even further than the first, settling in his hairline. The release didn’t stop for what seemed like at least 20 seconds. Greg’s face was thoroughly covered by the time Mycroft had finished and collapsed back onto the bed. Greg took a moment to catch his breath. Mycroft leaned forward and went to kiss Greg.

“You sure? Don’t want to get you covered in your own cum.”

Mycroft didn’t say anything, instead opting to crush his lips against Greg’s. The kiss was filthy, even without the load that was coating both of their faces now. Greg moaned softly and pulled away.

“Now I have a reason to shower with you, Gregory.”

Greg must be dreaming. He slipped on his way home, fell into a coma and now he was dreaming. Mycroft Holmes was going to shower with him. Mycroft helped him up and led the way into the shower.

They showered in silence, save for a few moans and kisses underneath the spray. They dried off in Greg’s room and Greg saw that the clock read 1:30am. 

“Hey, Holmes.”

Mycroft arched an eyebrow at the name but listened, nonetheless.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

Mycroft gave him a smile and reached towards him. They embraced and Greg heard a yawn escape him.

“Let’s get to bed, yeah?”

“Of course, Gregory.”

They fell asleep as soon as the covers were drawn up around them.

25th December 2019 09:45

Greg awoke peacefully. The first thing he noticed was the warm body pressed against his back. He remembered the events of last night and sighed contentedly. He laid awake, basking in the warmth for several minutes before Mycroft stirred behind him. 

“Morning, Mycroft.”

“And to you too, Gregory.”

Greg felt Mycroft pepper kisses on the back of his neck. He had to say something.

“So, last night was the best night I’ve had in a long time. I can’t speak for you, but I’m guessing that you feel a similar way seeing as I am not in a prison cell getting tortured.”

Mycroft gave an exasperated chuckle at that.

“I’d very much like to take you on a date sometime. A proper date, where I can spoil you and show you off. Would you like that?”

Mycroft didn’t even hesitate with his reply.

“Yes, of course. I would love to go on a date with you. Oh, and one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Merry Christmas, Greg.”

“If I had known that all it would take for you to call me ‘Greg’ would be for me to suck you off, I would have gotten on my knees for you years ago.”

Mycroft laughed and continued to press more kisses along Greg’s neck. He continued and Greg felt the tell-tale bluntness of Mycroft’s erection pressing against his hole.

“Now, I think I had better take care of that for you, Mr. Holmes.”

“Yes, I think you better had, too.” Mycroft drawled.

Greg sighed happily and moved under the covers.


End file.
